Philosophy of War
by ProsePoetry
Summary: This is my take on the 120-phrases challenge. They'll all be one-shots. No one two will be the same, except in the respect that they are all Harry Potter. Enjoy.
1. In Between Worlds

**This is a challenge I found under Forgotten challenges. Obviously, this is based on Harry Potter and when finished will be 120 one shots, as they're called. **

**In Between Worlds**

Tom Riddle Jr. was in Slytherin common room. The eerie green light shone on his face, making it even more disconcerting than his usual ghostly white.

He was seething with rage, dangerously contained under the surface. How he longed for someone, _something _to unleash his fury upon. But he was completely alone. He would be forever. Forever trapped between life and true death. No moving on, no returning to what was rightfully his.

He let out a scream of madness. Harry Potter defeating him, the Dark Lord. Banishing his soul to oblivion. He would never come to terms with it, though it had been…been.. Another yell escaped him.

Time. There was no such thing as time in limbo. Never would he know how many seconds, minutes, hours,_ days _had passed. All he did know was an eternity was stretched out before him. A barren, desolate, idle eternity.

There had to be a way out. He was the Dark Lord! Nothing evaded him. He was the most powerful dark wizard, and quite possibly the most powerful wizard of all. He swept about the illusion of a room, searching for something, anything to help him be free of this horrible place, to help return to the land of the living.

And then he remembered something.

He had summoned his clothes.. Maybe he could.. He closed his eyes, focusing intently on the elder wand. The smooth wood of the Deathstick was suddenly in his hands. He felt twisted glee when he opened his eyes to take in his newly acquired wand. Half the battle was won.

He would be free.


	2. Love

**Post Deathly Hallows**

**To clarify, these aren't connected. They're one-shots, plot bunnies, drabbles, call them what you will. Oh, this is the 120-phrases challenge.**

**Love**

Harry gazed out to the beautiful green trees that surrounded the burrow. For the first time in several months, years even, he felt complete freedom. He felt peace. Voldemort was gone, the war was over.

He felt a hand slip into his. He looked to his left and saw Ginny, her gaze shifting to him as his had to her. In that moment, he felt a rush of emotions.

The first was that always undeniable pull he felt to her. She was beautiful and strong. Intelligent and courageous. Funny and witty. Him and her just fit, beyond his expectations.

The second was the happiness. They shared views often. They laughed at the same things. She cared about family and loyalty as much as he did, too. Maybe one day, they could have a family together. That created a warm picture in his mind's eye.

And the third was relief. There was no pressure to be someone else with Ginny. No pressure to be the 'Boy Who Lived' or 'The Chosen One'. She was Ginny Weasley. He was Harry Potter. That's all there was to it.

"Good morning, Harry." He smiled.

"'Morning, Ginny." She turned her gaze back to the trees.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He did not look away from her face.

"Yes," He answered, not all speaking of the view. A small smile graced her face. As true in the sun in the sky, he loved her. He was sure she knew he did, too. Ginny rarely missed things.

"I was referring to the view."

"I wasn't." They both laughed. Mrs. Weasley called their names then, and they continued in their bliss for the rest of their lives.


	3. Sunset

**This a Harry/Luna friendship one-shot set in Order of the Phoenix.**

**Sunset**

Harry Potter sat in the grass, watching the squid in the lake.

"Hello, Harry," A whimsical voice said from behind him. Luna Lovegood plopped down next to him, a thick journal in her hands.

"Hey, Luna," He answered, shoving the thoughts from his head so he could give her his full attention.

"You miss your friends," She observed all too intelligently. He shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. There were bigger things going on at Hogwarts than Harry's lack of time with Ron and Hermione. The largest of which was the Ministry and its control of Hogwarts. Their ignorance did no one any good. "Do you want to see my drawings?" She asked in earnest.

"Yeah, I would like that." She handed him the sketchbook. They fell into silence as they flipped through it.

Harry couldn't help being stunned by how talented of an artist Luna was. There were pictures of thestrals, places in Hogwarts, hippogriffs, a dark haired woman Harry didn't recognize, and many, many other things. All of them were enchanted to move. The image that stopped him, that took his breath away was a sunset.

Hues of pink and purple and faded blue made up the sky. Light gray clouds carelessly floated across it. A lake-the lake here at Hogwarts, Harry presumed-sparkled from the golden sun. Half of the sun was ever frozen on the horizon.

"These are _really good, _Luna." He tore his gaze from the fiery sunset to smile at her.

"Thank you." He handed the journal back to her.

"You don't have to feel alone, Harry. Many people believe in you." He knew that, but he still did.

"I appreciate it, Luna." They both looked out to the lake then, falling back into a peaceful silence.

**Did you catch that reference to Rowena Ravenclaw? Haha. Best. House. EVER. :D Please review. :)**


	4. Deep

**Make the setting what you will, I just wrote.**

**Deep**

As the Mirror of Erised had shown him years ago, Harry wanted few things more than to be with his mother and father. But the only certain avenue to that was death. That was not an option for him, not an option for the Wizarding World. He couldn't submit to his desires and take an easy way out. He had to fight.

And in his heart, he knew that's what his parents would want. They would want him to battle against the dark forces that were taking control of the world. With those thoughts, a fire consumed him, a fire reminiscent of the effects of fire whiskey.

He could do this. He had the strength. He had the support. His parents had given their lives for him. Their lives. it was the deepest love could be, and he would make himself worthy of their sacrifice, of all who dedicated their lives to ending Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It wasn't an easy road, he was aware of that.

He could see a light at the end of this tunnel. To get out, he would have to defeat his enemy. He would have to defeat Voldemort_. _


	5. Seeking Solace

**I know these are kind of lame, but I'm really enjoying doing these. **

**Seeking Solace**

Harry loved quidditch. Harry loved the feeling of being hundreds of feet in the air. He _loved _the thrill of competition. Beating Slytherin was even more thrilling.

It was one of the few places Harry felt the high of unrestricted freedom. No responsibility, no expectations. Nothing but open air and endless blue sky. Scenic Hogwarts, a haven in the sky. He could feel his mind getting off track and he shook his head.

There was a snitch to be sought.

He scanned the sky, the crowds, the ground for any sign of gold, any glint of his elusive friend. He felt pure joy as he searched for that tiny, golden sphere. No one could take that from him, and if they did, they were clearly mental.

**This is _so_ short, but i couldn't see how to extend it without making it boring and monotonous. :P Please review.**


	6. Break Away

**I really liked writing this one, though I don't really favor Ron. Hope you like it.**

**Break Away**

Ron Weasley lay in a pub, sulking. He was good for no one. Not his family. Not his best friend. Not even Hermione. No where did he really shine, ever.

He really had hit a new low. Rock _bottom._ Words like useless, good for nothing, and shadow flew through his head. That's what he was now, wasn't he? The Chosen One's _shadow._

Oh, how he wanted to go back though. The world suddenly seemed more dangerous without his friends by his side. He had taken for granted what they had been doing. Soon after he left, he realized they _had _made progress. He just couldn't see it then. No doubt, he had caused Harry and Hermione unnecessary pain. Why did he do it again? He couldn't recall.

He was, and would be, infinitely sorry. An ideal image formed in his head, though it wasn't one he would bank on. How would he find them? Stumble around like the idiot Hermione probably thought he was? Though that was a bleak outlook, a smile broke across his face. Hope had returned, but the back of his mind was saying it wouldn't last long. It was small, like the flicker of a candle. Just as he was falling asleep…

"Ron.." A voice he knew very well said. "…He broke his wand.." He sat up and pulled out the deluminator, sure that it was the source.

It was from then on he would never lose faith in either of them again.

**Thank you so much for reading.**


	7. Eden

**This one is going to be hard to write. But I'm going to do it. For the experience. **

**Eden**

George Weasley didn't really know what he was doing here. Didn't really remember the trip here either. But here stood, gazing down at the unfriendly stone that had carvings on it he did not wish to see, yet still he did not walk away.

Fred Weasley

1 April 1978-2 May 1998

Beloved Son and Brother

The stone was ill-fitting in George's mind. Fred was so much more than 'beloved' as it suggested. He was George's other half. His partner in crime. George couldn't remember a moment in his life where Fred hadn't been there to share it. Until that awful day that separated them. It was burned in his memory, that moment, and it wouldn't fade. He didn't think it ever would. The worst part, the part that haunted him every day, was he wasn't even _there _when Fred had been stolen from this life. They had been split up, something that very rarely happened. Terrible that when they did so, one of them had to die .

Thousands of what ifs had zoomed through his head. What if they had stayed a second longer tower? What if he had been with him and Percy? What if Fred had went with him? Would Percy have survived? What if, what if, what if. He had never come close to answering any of them. Even if he did, would it make him okay with Fred being gone?

He already knew the answer to that.

He wondered what Fred would say if he knew George was so messed up without him. Did he know? So many questions… Life didn't make sense anymore. Everything George knew was thrown into turmoil and shadows of doubt. The only things he didn't question were his basic needs. Food, water, sleep, clothes. His purpose was living through each second.

He felt like a blindfold was over his eyes. He felt like he had walked a thousand miles and there was a million more left. He felt like a shell. Fred would be disappointed. But there was nothing George could do about that. He could hardly think a thought that wasn't linked to his twin.

He fell to his knees, then slumped to the ground. It was disconcerting and strangely comforting to know his brother lay sleeping a few feet below him. He wished he could've seen him again before he died. He wished he could've told him how much he loved him and needed him. Or, at least seen his face one last time before it moved no more. But he did not try to picture his face. He didn't even use mirrors anymore. Hardly spoke either. It was almost too painful to live.

But if he was going to do anything, he was going to live. It was all he could for Fred.

**I made myself cry while I wrote this. Maybe because I have a sister. I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading.**


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